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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879630">scream team</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero'>ShowMeAHero</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Haunting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Supernatural Elements</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:41:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The laptop screen keeps flickering in front of him, cycling like an old television set. Distantly, in the back of his head, Richie thinks that that doesn’t actually make sense. He’s not sure computers should be able to do that, but, sure enough, the longer he watches the screen, the longer it fizzes out, rolling up and over and over and over. He’d make a <i>Poltergeist</i> joke if he could find his lungs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>scream team</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is the next leg of my <a href="https://twitter.com/screamteam_au">smau "scream team" on twitter</a>!!!!! which starting from here is no longer a smau and is simply an au 😊</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Richie can feel Eddie’s eyes boring holes in the side of his head, but he still can’t make himself move.</p><p>The laptop screen keeps flickering in front of him, cycling like an old television set. Distantly, in the back of his head, Richie thinks that that doesn’t actually make sense. He’s not sure computers should be able to do that, but, sure enough, the longer he watches the screen, the longer it fizzes out, rolling up and over and over and <em> over. </em> He’d make a <em> Poltergeist </em>joke if he could find his lungs.</p><p>“Rich?” Eddie asks hesitantly. Richie tries to make his hands move, tries to turn his head, <em> anything, </em>but he can’t. His phone buzzes, and his eyes flick down to see he has a text message, but he can’t make himself check it.</p><p>There’s a tense knot of energy right in the back of his chest, building hot, tight, and he wants to scream, but he can’t fucking <em> move. </em>Eddie’s hand slowly reaches out and lands on his knee, warm through the fabric of his pajama pants, and it’s like something inside of Richie snaps.</p><p>He snatches up his phone from the sofa and throws it as hard as he can at the wall. It smacks screen-first into a framed picture of Richie from his graduation and shatters, sending itself and the frame to the ground in a million pieces. Eddie shouts and jumps to his feet just in time for Richie to stand.</p><p>“What the fuck is happening?” Eddie demands. Richie’s hands are shaking as he grabs up his laptop. The thing feels like it’s exploding hot with energy, the same energy knotted up inside his chest, and he just wants to destroy it so badly.</p><p>“Fuck this,” Richie says, the first thing he thinks he’s properly said in days. He doesn’t even see Eddie’s face as he shoves out the back door of their tiny house, running across the darkened street. He can hear Eddie cursing behind him, can hear him running after him, but he doesn’t slow down.</p><p>“Richie, stop!” Eddie shouts. “What the fuck are you— <em> Richie!” </em></p><p>“Go back home, Eds,” Richie says over his shoulder. He has to hop the fence to get into the gated pool area at the center of their little neighborhood, but he’s tall enough to do it. Eddie needs to stop and get a foothold, and it slows him down.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Eddie demands. Richie hears him slip and hit the ground, and he turns back on instinct.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Richie asks.</p><p>“Yes,” Eddie says. “What are you—”</p><p>Richie’s already walking back to the pool. He looks down at the laptop; the thing starts to spark, frying itself to pieces in his hands. For some reason, he doesn’t flinch; it doesn’t feel all that hot to him, even though it’s clearly overloading. The screen goes staticky, then whites out with a screech.</p><p>“Richie!” Eddie shouts. Richie only hesitates another second before he takes the laptop and chucks it dead into the center of the pool’s deep end.</p><p>He hears Eddie jump off the top of the fence behind him and sprint to his side. His arms land around Richie’s shoulders, yanking him back from the edge of the pool. In the darkness, under the pool lights, the water is flickering across their faces in bright blues and greens, nearly purple in the darkness when Richie actually turns to look at Eddie. His heart’s pounding, and he feels like he might be sick, but, <em> fuck, </em> he wants to just— just <em> run. </em></p><p>“What the fuck was that?” Eddie demands, chest heaving. “What did you do?”</p><p>Richie looks down into the pool at the laptop as the screen flickers out. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”</p><p>“What did you—” Eddie starts to ask again, but suddenly there’s water <em> everywhere. </em>The entire contents of the pool explode up and outwards, falling around them like a storm, drenching them both from head to toe. Eddie gasps, yanking Richie back another couple of steps.</p><p>“We have to destroy it,” Richie tells him, shouting over the rush of water. He wants to cry. “I thought that would’ve fucking <em> worked—” </em></p><p>“Destroy <em> what?” </em>Eddie asks. He grabs Richie’s hand, then slips up to his jaw instead, cupping his chin and forcing him to look down so they can meet each other’s eyes. “Richie. Destroy what?”</p><p>“Them,” Richie says. He doesn’t know what he means; it’s like his memory is fuzzing in and out, same as the laptop screen. His eyes blink on their own, it feels like, before his knees go wobbly. “It. Them. Eds—”</p><p>“Hey, I got you, it’s okay,” Eddie says, snagging him around the waist. He all but drags him to one of the sopping wet deck chairs lined up alongside the pool, dropping him down onto his back. His fingers probe into Richie’s throat, then his wrist, checking his pulse. Eddie leans up and over him, cups his face, kisses him hard on the forehead. Richie wants to shake apart, feeling him so close again like that. He feels almost human.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Richie tells him. His chest crinkles inwards, and he gasps, reaching for Eddie. “It worked.”</p><p><em> “What </em>worked?” Eddie asks. “The plan? Did the plan work? Richie—”</p><p>“Fuck yeah,” Richie says, letting his head fall back. His eyes close on their own, this time, and he just lets himself relax. He thinks, maybe, it worked; maybe, whatever that <em> thing </em> is, whoever, <em> whoever </em>it is, maybe it didn’t get on television like it wanted. Maybe they corrupted the file like Bill wanted, yeah, but maybe Richie’s backup plan actually worked. Maybe the whole fucking thing is inside him right now, just like the book said.</p><p>“Richie, look at me,” Eddie says, somewhere else. It sounds dark and wet, and Eddie sounds panicked, maybe. Richie thinks he should help, but he’s not sure if it’s dark and wet where <em> he </em>is or where Eddie is. It doesn’t matter, anyways, because in the next beat of his heart, he’s unconscious.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You can (and should!) come chat with me on Twitter at <a href="https://twitter.com/nicole__mello">@nicole__mello</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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